Memories
by alexislogain
Summary: A year after the blight, Alistair comes to Alexa Cousland asking for her help to search for his daughter.
1. Chapter 1

It's amazing how your whole perspective changes when you're staring death straight in the eyes. Not that Alexa hadn't been doing just that for months on end, since the day her Mabari hound had woken her up out of a deep sleep. Since the day Arl Howe destroyed her family and her home in the name of righteous vengeance. Even now, knowing that her hands had been the ones to slit his traitorous throat, his name made her lips curl into a sneer. She had been living moment to moment while battling for her life and the lives of those who had sworn to fight with and for her. And now this was it, her last stand between all that was good and evil. It would all end with her and her life. It was not the life that pretty little Alexa Cousland had always pictured for herself, not with her pale, porcelain skin and long, brilliant red hair. She was tall for a female, but most men still stood half a head above her. Learning to wield a sword at a young age, she'd stayed slim with lean, corded muscles that burned now with exertion.

No, this was not the life she was bred for. But it was the life she was born for.

Memories swirled around her mind as she stared up at the archdemon. Memories of blood and death, of her blade slicing through Howe's throat with sickening ease. Memories of Morrigan coming to her, offering to sleep with Alistair to save her life then stalking off in anger, abandoning her to the fate the witch had claimed to want to keep her from when Alexa had told her no, she couldn't do it. She couldn't sacrifice the happiness of the man she loved by forcing him to be with a woman he couldn't stand.

Of course there was regret. As he steeled himself beside her, shield battered and covered in gore, the Warden found herself wanting to do nothing but hide in Alistair's arms and close her eyes, wishing desperately it would all go away. She had done that when she was a child with a nightmare, crawling into her father's lap and hiding from the demons that had plagued her mind. But she couldn't do that anymore. She wasn't a little girl anymore and he was dead and she felt so tired and alone with the burden of the world on her shoulders.

Her earlier conversation with Riordan reverberated through her mind. She was going to die. And even if she didn't, she only had another thirty years – give or take – left. She would never have children, a fact that had shaken her to her very core. It didn't matter that it was improbable, not impossible; her mind conveniently forgot that piece of information as she cursed her barren womb. The Couslands were the oldest family in Fereldan, older than the Thierins, and she would not be able to continue that bloodline. She was the last of her bloodline and it would end with her. Her idle fantasies of small children with her pale silver eyes and Alistair's honey blonde hair were shattered.

Alistair's battle cry shook her from her reverie and Alexa turned slightly to shield herself from the darkspawn that had somehow made it beyond the dwarves that helped protect them. He took the majority of the blow on his shield, spinning into action as Wynne stepped up behind him. Tiny, Alexa's Mabari, launched himself at the darkspawn and she took the opportunity to step away from the group and towards the injured archdemon. Tiny had taken to Alistair and she felt comfort knowing he would keep the King safe while she was gone.

The heavy plate of her boots thudded loudly on the ground as she launched herself at the archdemon. All those memories that haunted her just moments ago were replaced with the sound of her blood as it rushed violently in her ears. She could practically taste the bloodlust. She dropped her own shield and sword, pulling a dwarven greatsword out of a nearby corpse as she ran, charging the archdemon as her lithe body picking up speed despite her heavy armor. As the blade sliced through the archdemon's body, spatters of blood dripping down onto her face and hair, Alexa dropped to her knees and slid underneath the length of the dragon. The adrenaline of battle had begun to ebb already but that was alright, she had the resolve to finish this. She had committed to this, to sacrificing her life to save those she loved. What could have been, what should have been, was about to end. She rolled out of the way as it slumped forward and for one brief moment let herself tear hear gaze away from death to look back at Alistair.

I love you, her mind said as her eyes met his. And she saw something in those honey colored orbs, a swirling guilt that suddenly explained his awkward behavior towards her, that should have made her pause. It clicked into place in her devious, brilliant political mind. And she knew, even as she turned and drove the sword into the head of the archdemon. Light poured out and around them, enveloping her in a heat that should have rendered the flesh from her bones. And she knew. Her life would not be forfeit. Her resolve and preparations were for naught.

He had betrayed her.

Somewhere in her mind she knew it had been to save her life. He had sacrificed something of himself to save her, just as she had readied herself to sacrifice for him. But he had betrayed her. Something cracked in the heart of Alexa Cousland and a tear rolled down her face. And then the world went dark.


	2. Chapter 2

Waking in what appeared to be the midday sun, Alexa stretched in the luxurious sheets. For a brief moment, the blight had never happened. She was at home, waking in her bed. Tiny let out a small grumble as his mistress disrupted him from his slumber and dropped off the mattress, nails clacking on the floor. The Warden shoved at her hair and sat up, the fog lifting and everything flooding back.

Amazingly enough, the archdemon was pushed into the back of her mind. The fact that Alistair had slept with Morrigan was all she could focus on now. Tears threatened and she pushed angrily at the covers. She was nearly naked, a fact which both surprised and disturbed her. It was a little sad, in her opinion, that the bruises and scars didn't shock her anymore but the lack of clothing did. Tiny whined a bit and scratched at the door, backing up as it opened.

Wynne pushed into the door, not bothering to knock. Seeing Alexa awake and sitting up, she smiled at the younger girl.

"Ah, glad to see you're awake," she commented. The mage went around the room, drawing back the heavy tapestries that covered the windows. Sunlight glinted off her silvery hair as she smiled at Alexa. "The seamstress will be happy to know she can finally fit your gown for Alistair's coronation this afternoon."

Alistair. Alexa's heart squeezed and she shook her head. "No, Gray Wardens do not wear gowns. I'll be in my armor."

"Your armor, my dear child, has been severely damaged."

"Then I'll wear that drake scale stuff that I had made." Her petulant tone made her flush but wasn't enough to wipe the pout off her lips. "I'm sorry, Wynne."

Shaking her head, Wynne smiled and sat on the bed next to her. "No need to apologize, Alexa. You have been through quite the ordeal which you handled with competance and grace. You're allowed to be a bit cranky when you wake."

Alexa leaned into her and let the older woman comfort her. After several moments, she drew in a shaky breath. "How long have I been asleep?"

"Oh not too long. Not quite two days and it is relatively early yet." Wynne leaned back to look her over, switching gears from maternal figure to healer with ease. "And now that you are awake, we will give you a quick check up and then we will get you fed. I bet you are famished."

Alexa found herself smiling at that and stood as Wynne poked and prodded, making hmmm noises in her throat. Soon after, she found herself being bustled into a hot bath while maids fussed over her long red hair. Feeling cleaner than she had in ages, the Warden took her time in the hot water. Liliana came up once she had heard her friend was awake and sat with her for a while, telling stories of places far and wide. Tiny never let her out of his sight.

Once she was sufficiently clean, she let herself continue to be fawned over as the maids and Liliana dressed her in a simple silk gown. It was a silver color, the same shade as her pale eyes, cut with simple lines. Her hair was done up and twisted so tendrils curled around her face in a way that made Liliana envious.

"You look amazing," the bard sighed. Her fingers reached out to trail along the soft silk and Alexa shifted, seeing the fire in the other woman's eyes. It wasn't a secret that Liliana had feelings for her, nor was it a secret that Alexa did not return those feelings. Somehow, through it all though, the two had managed to forge a bond of friendship that the Warden felt herself needing at that moment.

Alexa smiled in response and tugged at Liliana's Chantry robes. "You don't look half bad yourself, sister." They laughed together and made silly faces at themselves in the mirror while admiring their finery.

It was this way that Alistair found them, arms around each other's waists while one tried to outdo the other's silly reflection. His eyes found themselves drawn to Alexa's silk clad bottom. Tiny woofed at him in greeting, causing the girls to stop their foolishness and turn around.

"I heard you were awake," Alistair started lamely. Alexa's eyes chilled and Tiny let out a small whine, not sure how to respond to his mistresses icy demeanor.

"Hello Alistair," Liliana began with a small smile.

Alexa, however, dropped into a deep curtsy as she had been taught during her years of grooming as Lady Cousland. "Your majesty." She stayed that way for longer than necessary, as the King would typically have instructed her to please rise. He cleared his throat uncomfortably and Alexa made a mental note to make sure he learned the ways of court as she straightened in front of him.

"You don't have to do that," he told her, shifting. His armor glinted in the light, gold and shiny with the crest of Fereldan across his chest.

"Do what, your majesty?"

"Bow or curtsey or whatever that was." The King's brows creased. "And stop calling me that."

"Calling you what, your majesty?"

"Okay now you're doing it on purpose."

"Doing what, your majesty?" The small little smile Alexa had plastered on her face felt more fake now than it had the years she had practiced it. She knew then that even if she did leave the Gray Wardens that she could never truly become Lady Cousland again. She'd become too accustomed to not only doing things her way but being in charge. She was definitely born to lead. She was no longer sure she could defer to anyone, let alone the man whom she'd put on the throne.

Alistair, however, had never been more sure in his life that he had no idea what he was doing. Dragging a hand through his sun bleached hair, he scowled at her. "Andraste's ass, Alexa. Call me by my name, not by that blasted title."

"But it would be unseemly, your majesty," Alexa responded, pausing long enough for his agitated growl to come through, "For a lowly Teyrna as myself to address the King of all Fereldan as anything other than his majesty."

"Teyrna?" Liliana piped up quietly. "So you will be returning to Highever with your brother then?"

"Fergus?" All matters of pomp and circumstance left her and she took several steps forward towards Alistair, looking anxiously over his shoulder. "He's alive?"

"Yes. He's in the great hall waiting I believe," Alistair responded to her. Gripping a handful of skirt, the Warden ducked around him and dashed out of the room, calling to her hound.

"Find Fergus, Tiny," Alexa urged. "Find Fergus!" The Mabari barked twice as they rushed through the castle.

Alistair stood looking at the doorway, shoulders slumping down.

"There, there, Alistair," Liliana said quietly, patting his arm. "She's just excited to see her brother is all."

"No, that's not all," he whispered. He knew what he had done would cause issues between them. He knew she wouldn't like it. But it wasn't as if he had enjoyed it. And he'd only done it to save her. He would do anything for her, anything to save her. Even if it meant spending the night with Morrigan. The King slowly resigned himself to the fact that he would do anything to save her, even if it ultimately meant losing her. Liliana frowned at his words, keeping a gentle hand on his forearm. She knew what it felt like to love someone from afar. She had the sneaking suspicion she and Alistair were starting to have an awful lot in common.


	3. Chapter 3

The coronation was rather uneventful. True to her word, Alexa did not show up in a gown. In fact she'd spent the majority of the day hiding from the palace seamstress, opting instead to cart her armor down to Wade for it to be repaired. She and her brother talked while they waited as Wade had insisted in working on it right away. He was the armor smith for the Hero of Fereldan, after all. Plus having her loiter around his shop would definitely improve his business, a fact that they both knew and that she just smiled over.

It was nice for her to spend time with Fergus. Grief flooded his eyes more often than not, an emotion that she had somehow managed to push down and beat into submission until it left her alone. She knew on some level she needed to deal with the loss of her family before it broke her and she expected, now that the day was saved that she would suffer more for it than had she dealt with it before.

"So I heard a rumor," Fergus murmured as he leaned close to his sister. After being fawned over by her adoring public, Alexa went back in to hide from the crowd until the feast in her honor was held. She had been talked into changing out of her armor and into a gown worth of a queen and sat at the same long table as Alistair and the rest of her party. She could feel her skin prickle from time to time and would look up to see the King looking back at her. They still hadn't spoken since that morning. The anger that bubbled up inside Alexa when she saw him began to frighten her. So each time she would tear her gaze from his and focus on something else, each time entertaining a small fantasy of going over and punching him in the face or something equally violent.

It was kind of like that saying, 'laugh to keep from crying.' Only it wasn't laughter that kept the Gray Warden from crying.

A pair of fingers snapped in front of her face, startling Alexa out of her current fantasy where she had him naked and tied to her bed while she took some leather straps and made him beg…

"Alexa Cousland!" The authoritative voice rang so closely to her father's that the redhead had to blink back tears. She focused back on Fergus who had apparently been speaking to her.

"Sorry. I'm sorry. You were saying?"

"I heard a rumor. About Gray Wardens. It was my understanding that the Warden who slayed the archdemon would also die." Dark brows knitted together and Fergus cleared his throat after his voice cracked. "It is also my understanding that you are the Warden who was the one to slay said archdemon."

"Your understanding would be correct," she responded.

"Which one?"

She scowled, "Both of them. What are you getting at, Fergus? Afraid I am of the undead?"

"No, dear sister," he shook his head sadly. "Of that I have no fear. I am merely curious how it is you are still with us. Not that I am glad to have you here."

Ears prickled nearby. She had kept very few secrets from her travelling companions and she saw curious glances flicker their way. This was not her secret to share. But this was also her brother and she had sworn always to remain faithful to her family. "I need some air. Come on."

They made their way outside and to a small, private garden. With a deep breath, she began her story starting with Riordan telling them that killing an archdemon would kill the Gray Warden as well. Agitated and animated, her hands flew as she paced. Morrigan had been waiting for her in her room, she had this loop they could exploit and she could get out of it. All she'd have to do is force Alistair to sleep with her, to create some demon baby that Morrigan would be free to do with as she pleased.

"I told her no. No. A hundred times no." Tears streamed down her face. Fergus remained still and quiet, listening to her tale. "He was the only good thing that happened to me in ages, Fergus. I wasn't about to share him, not with her. Not create a child with her, not when it should have been me giving that to him. Not when I will never be able to give that to him. I told her no."

She went on to describe the battle, seeing Denerim destroyed and flames dancing along the walls. Bodies of darkspawn and the men, women, elves, and dwarves she had recruited into fighting with her. So many deaths that she was responsible for.

"And then we were at the archdemon. And it was dying and I knew it was time. And I was ready for it, Fergus. It was in that moment that I understood why Mother stayed behind. Why she and Father stayed in Highever and raised their swords one last time while I ran away. And I went for it. I raised my sword, closed my eyes, and prepared to meet the Maker. I knew what he did before I even struck the blow."

"So he chose to find a way to let you live. Sounds like you should be grateful, Pup." The family nickname that her father always used for her was the last straw. Alexa dropped to her knees in front of her brother and cried. From the shadows, Alistair watched as the woman he loved more than anything cried her heart out.

He wasn't surprised in the morning when she was gone.


	4. Chapter 4

It had been almost a year since her breakdown at Denerim palace. Now she skirted past it, preferring to stay in the dark back alleyways of the city than in the bright, bustling market where the nobles lived. As the Hero of Fereldan, she got glances from time to time that she'd prefer not to receive, but for the most part Alexa was able to stay to the shadows and lead a relatively quiet life. She continued her work for the Blackstone Irregulars and the Mage's Collective, preferring the freedom of travelling from place to place rather than be tied down.

Fergus was in Highever, picking up the pieces that Arl Howe had left scattered all over the countryside. It was a slow process but they were a resilient people. And while sons and daughters were buried, more came along to rebuild. Soon farms were popping back up with homes standing tall and proud. The castle itself had remained structurally sound. It had been hard for the two of them to sort through the memories and destroyed belongings, but they had done it together. A dull ache bloomed in Alexa's heart as she remembered gathering her nephew's remains to bury with the rest of their family. Arl Howe, it seemed, had not been contented with the destruction of her family. He hadn't stopped until everything had been torn to shreds, until he had raped the dignity and memory of the Couslands who had been there before her. Once the rebuild was underway, she left the finer details to the elder Cousland. It wasn't like she would be able to contribute to the family line anyway.

Liliana had chosen to stay behind in Denerim, becoming part of Alistair's royal court. She was a liaison to the Chantry and one of his royal advisors. They wrote from time to time, though they both were starting to realize that while they would always feel affection for one another, the blight and the need for friendship and companionship was the driving force between them rather than a true connection. It was alright though. She always had a bright smile for Alexa, which made her visits to Denerim a bit more pleasant.

Morrigan had, of course, left before they faced the archdemon. She heard rumors from time to time of a woman meeting her description living in the Wilds. Sten had left shortly after the battle, choosing to return to his precious Qun. Alexa had heard of the group of Qunari warriors who got stranded in the Free Marches and wondered if he was one of the ones stuck in Kirkwall.

Zevran had chosen to travel with her, her remarks of finding more treasure with her than without her seemed to be enough to keep him motivated to be by her side. And while there was that one incredibly drunken night – okay, maybe three – where she had woken up naked and sated with him in the bed next to her, they never went beyond the lines of comfortable friendship. Other than those, you know, one maybe three times. And while most friendships would be strained, theirs seemed to grow, nights spent together out of lonliness and affection and the need to turn to something – someone – familiar rather than a paid whore.

Through their travels, they met and grouped up with Oghran and Wynne for a bit. Alexa had caught wind of the fact that Nathanial Howe had been captured in Amaranthine. And while she had essentially told the Gray Wardens what they could do with themselves, she still felt a strong sense of loyalty to them. Wynne was in the city on business for the King, travelling to the College of Magi for some research project. While they were there, Oghran had decided he wanted to become a Warden. Amazingly enough, so did Nathanial. She stayed long enough to see them start training and once she was satisfied they would be able to live long enough to see the next year without her, she, Tiny, and Zev gathered their things and left Amaranthine. Shortly after, the city fell. So back to the Keep she went to band with Oghran, Nate, and the mage Anders against the darkspawned who called himself the Architect.

They all pushed her to talk to Alistair, to consider his side and to forgive him. He still loved her, they would tell her. And it was obvious that she still loved him. There was no reason the two of them should be miserable and apart. Having since lost contact with Alistair, the King she had to keep reminding herself, Alexa kept a variety of contacts in Denerim to keep her up to date on his well-being. He was ruling well and his people loved him. It made her happy to know that at least one of the two Kings she had put on a throne was doing well. The dwarven King, Harrowmont, apparently wasn't doing all that well. Not that it really mattered, Alexa needed their support for the Blight and beyond that, well, she'd had enough of politics to last her a lifetime.

That was probably why she was ducking through questionable areas of the city at night with a dark cloak swirled around her body. Her warrior sensibilities wouldn't let her travel without a suit of armor, though her time with Zevran had taught her that heavy plate didn't always have a place. Tonight she was clad in the drake scale armor that Master Wade had created for her so long ago. It was almost as good as the plate she owned but was a bit less conspicuous. And the message she'd had delivered to her quarters were cryptic enough to peak her curiosity to make the trek across the city.

As she entered the Pearl, Tiny whined and stayed by her side. Zevran would certainly discover she'd slipped out, but she figured she had enough of a lead to get a bit of privacy for this strange endeavor.

Sanga, the owner of the Pearl, gave Alexa a small smile as she entered the establishment.

"Good evening, my lady," she greeted warmly. "How can we help you this evening?"

Alexa pushed her hood back from her cloak and smiled in response. "I believe there is a party waiting for me."

"Yes, of course," Sanga responded and nodded towards the back. It wasn't the first time she'd been directed to a clandestine meeting in some back room. Alexa just hoped that this time there wasn't any blood for the owner to clean up afterwards.

Tiny perked up a bit, catching some scent that just his nose could detect. As he led the way towards the back, a familiar tingling sensation crept up her spine. Alexa had to resist the urge to drag out her sword and yell a warning about darkspawn. Instead, she set her jaw and had the unpleasant urge to turn tail and run. Not that she would ever consider running away…again… Besides, Tiny had already beaten her to the door and, upon his scratches, had pushed his way inside when it was opened. It was too late to back out now.

"Maker help me," she muttered to herself and tugged her hood back up. It was a ridiculous response, but at this point made her feel a bit better knowing she was somewhat shielded from view.

As the Hero of Fereldan made her way into the small back room, Alexa pursed her lips. The room was practically filled with armed soldiers, each embossed with the royal crest. She had the sudden feeling this wasn't going to go well.

"Lady Cousland," a male voice greeted and one of the armed men reached out a hand in greeting. He was definitely older, somewhere in the realm of Eamon's age, with jagged features and silver hair. A long scar went across his face and he had a ruthlessly trimmed beard. His deep gravelly voice grated against her nerves and something about him put her back up.

She took the hand he offered, pursing her lips. "I do not believe I have been addressed by that title in quite some time."

"Ah, yes," he cleared his throat. "We were not sure…"

"You may call me Alexa," she responded dryly and sat at the table in the small, dark room. Alexa pushed her hood back, listening to Tiny's tail thump on the floor. Traitor. He was in the corner of the room, hidden in the shadows so only the offending tail was showing.

"Yes, my Lady," the soldier responded. "I am Commander Evans of the Royal Guard."

"Good for you. To what do I owe the pleasure of being summoned to such a fine establishment at this hour?"

Evans cleared his throat, eyes narrowing at her haughty tone. Hero or no, this girl was a disrespectful little wench. And Evans did not do disrespectful.

"You used to be so much more diplomatic."

Alexa's eyes didn't dart to the shadows, though her cursed heart did beat just a hair faster than it had a moment before. To the casual observater she looked to be quite bored, in fact, tapping her fingers on the table.

"And you never would have resorted to such cloak and dagger techniques before, Alistair," she responded. She was glad her voice didn't shake. The Hero of Fereldan offered a silent prayer to Andraste that it stayed steady and true.

"Your majesty," Evans' gruff voice piped up, cutting off any response that either she or Alistair had waiting on their tongues. The rather large man moved closer and scowled down at her. His shadow blocked out the dim lamps that were struggling to illuminate the room.

"Excuse me?" Alexa questioned.

"When speaking to his majesty you will address him with his proper title."

"Evans," Alistair's voice warned while Alexa simply laughed in his face.

"I have no allegiance to any king, let alone this one."

While the soldier spluttered in anger, the sound of a chair scraping filled the room. The handful of other soldiers that were standing around looked at each other, nervous. Alistair came into view, shoving at his golden blonde hair and Alexa still refused to look in his direction. She kept her gaze at the angry man standing in front of her.

"Speaking as such is treason," he spat. "And you will show some respect." He reached down to grip her arm.

"Evans, knock it off," Alistair's voice rose. They ignored him.

"I put that man on the throne," the redhead said coldly. "I have shown all the respect he deserves and then some. I owe no allegiance to him or anyone but myself. Therefore, I will speak to him in any way that I please."

Evans growled and gripped his sword, pulling it out of its' sheath with an unmistakable ringing of metal on metal.

"You will stand down," the King commanded. A twisted part of Alexa's mind admired the sound of authority in the blonde's voice, curious to know what he could get her to do should he command her in that tone of voice. Preferably while naked. Apparently his Commander, however, did not hear the command.

Letting herself be pulled up from her chair, Alexa wrapped a gloved hand around the hilt of her longsword. She was starting to regret not wearing her plate mail. While Evans breathed in her face, Tiny inched towards them, his lips curled back and teeth exposed while a ruthless growl sounded deep in his throat.

"Unhand me," the redhead murmured quietly. "Or I will make you unhand me."

"You do not frighten me little girl," was Evans' arrogant reply.

"I should," was her quiet reply before chaos erupted in the room. With a spin, she was able to pull her arm from his grasp, wrenching out her sword in time to clash with his. Tiny launched his muscular body at Evans, his biting attack deflected just before his teeth sunk into flesh. Alexa took advantage of his distraction to slam the pommel of her sword into his face. Alistair was yelling something in the background but neither of them heard it. The rest of the soldiers moved nervously, some had weapons drawn but none had bothered to join the action. Unlike their commander, the little redhead in front of them scared the crap out of them.

The fight was over almost as it began. While Evans was older and probably had more experience, Alexa had spent the last year travelling with a very devious former Antivan Crow. She fought dirty. In a few deft moves, the older man was laying on the floor with the tip of her sword resting against his throat.

"Alexa," Alistair's pleading voice cut through the rush of bloodlust and she finally looked at him.

With an angry look she pulled her sword away from the Commander's throat, sneering down at him. "The next time you draw a weapon on me, I will kill you."

"Evans. Shut your mouth." Alistair shoved one of his guards aside and came to the middle of the room, speaking as Evans had begun to open his mouth. He thought about offering the man a hand up but was so frustrated that he pushed the thought away and turned to look at Alexa instead.

"So was this the reason you brought me down here, Alistair?" Alexa demanded, sheathing her sword. "To try to intimidate and bully me? After everything I've done for you?"

"After everything you've done?" he repeated quietly. She watched in idle curiosity as his temper flared. "What about everything I have done for you? I gave up everything for you."

"Oh yeah, fucking that bitch and becoming King is such a hardship!" Alexa shook her head at him, the pain from pushing him away still fresh in her heart.

"Everything I have done since we met has been for you," the former Templar told her, his voice suddenly sad. "Including fucking that bitch."

They stood there for several moments, staring at each other. A flicker of uncertainty flashed in his face and Alistair started to reach out to brush a strand of hair out of Alexa's face. She flinched and shrank back, shaking her head, tears wanting to rush to her eyes. "Don't touch me."

"Alexa…"

"Just…don't." Her shoulders drooped and she looked so tired, aged beyond her years. "What do you want, Alistair?

He sighed. "I need your help, Alexa. Something was stolen from me."

"What, your favorite brick of Redcliff cheese?"

"No." He hesitated and suddenly looked so tired. Alistair waived his hands at his guards. "Leave us."

"Your majesty," Evans protested. He had pulled himself off the floor and was staring angrily at the King.

"Oh Andraste's flaming sword man, she will not harm me."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Alexa muttered under her breath. Tiny woofed at her and she rolled her eyes. "I swear on everything that is good and holy that no harm will come to the King while he is in my company."

Grumbling, they left and crowded outside the door. Evans gave her one final glare before shutting the door behind him. Feeling about as tired as Alistair looked, she leaned against a wall and raised her eyebrows at him, waiting for him to speak.

"You look well," Alistair said after a long while.

Her temper wanted to flare up, all that pent up hurt and anger aching for release, but she found that even after all this time, she still loved the bastard. So she smiled a little instead. "As do you. Though you look to be softening a bit about the middle. They are feeding you too much cheese, I think."

"Tch, there is no such thing," his amber eyes twinkled at her. They enjoyed a minute of easy, casual banter before he drew in a deep breath. "As much as I would love to spend the night talking to you, I do have an important matter to discuss with you."

"Something more important than me?" she teased and enjoyed that she could still make him blush. "So tell me, Alistair. What is it that has been stolen from you?"

"My daughter."

Alexa's knuckles whitened and she lurched forward. The pain that flashed across her face was so severe that Alistair felt as if he'd have hurt her less had he struck her. "You really are a bastard."

"Please, let me explain."

"There is nothing to explain." The redhead wrenched open the door. "Tell your whore to go find her."

"She's not – I haven't even – oh Maker damn you, Alexa, she's ten. She's not my blood." Alexa stopped, turning slowly to meet his pleading gaze. "She was an orphan. She… she tried to lift my purse while I was in the Market. Evans wanted to have her hanged but she… She looked so much like you. And I missed you so badly. And I got to know her and I…"

The guards at least attempted to look like they weren't straining to hear every word their King spoke. For that, Alexa closed the door gently in their faces as she turned around and studied Alistair. She considered him for a long while, studying his sheepish grin. He, too, looked aged beyond his years. Politics were not easy. And while rebuilding Highever had been a struggle, she could only imagine the difficulties he came across while rebuilding an entire nation.

A small wedge of respect bloomed, but she still couldn't keep the increduality out of her voice. "You adopted a thief."

"She was hungry," he responded simply. That was all the explanation he needed then and was definitely less explanation than he needed now that he'd grown to know and love the girl.

"What's her name?"

"Sylvia." Alistair sank into the chair in which Alexa had been previously perched, shoulders slumping forward.

Against her better judgment, the redhead moved toward him and put a hand on the back of his shoulder. He leaned towards her, wrapping his arms around her body and turning, until she stood between his knees, holding onto him.

"I hate this," he murmured, fighting his grief. But sitting here, face pressed against her stomach, the smell of leather and steel and something uniquely her, it bubbled over until it threatened to overcome him. "Someone is always there, always watching me. I can't mourn for you, be scared for her. I never wanted to be the bloody king."

"I know," Alexa responded gently. "But you cannot deny the fact that you're a good one."

"How would you know," came the sullen, muffled reply.

"Do you honestly think I haven't kept tabs on you, Alistair? I wasn't about to throw you to the wolves just because I was angry with you."

"But you left."

"Yes. I left." And standing there, pressing her cheek to the top of his head, she was finding it difficult to remember why. "You have no idea how it felt. I was ready to die. I had made my peace. And in one fell swoop, you pulled that rug out from under me. I was left in limbo. For a long time I felt like the walking dead."

"Swooping is bad," he responded, not sure what else to say.

Alexa laughed at that, "Yes. Swooping is bad. I had no idea Fergus was alive. I was told hours earlier – hours, Alistair – that I would probably die and if I didn't, I would never have children. I was never going to grow old with you, bear your children. My purpose was to die at the feet of that archdemon."

"I didn't want you to die. Not for me. My life isn't worth yours."

"You're the king, Alistair. Your life is worth more than most."

He shook his head, leaning back to look at her. "Not yours. How could I live knowing you were gone? How could I love my country and my people knowing they had cost me the one thing I love more than anything."

"Even more than Sylvia?" Alexa arched a brow, a smirk across her lips.

"That…is a different kind of love. Boffing her would be like boffing, you know, my sister. Or my…my…"

"Daughter?" Alexa supplied.

"Yes! Well. She is my daughter so that's even more so accurate."

"And a child."

"Also true. So see? Definitely a different kind of love." They were both quiet for a moment. "I was unconscious for most of it."

The Hero of Fereldan shook her head slightly, confused. "Most of what?"

"Morrigan."

"I don't want – "

"You're going to have to listen, Alexa." He said it in his King voice. She was so used to him taking her orders, even after this long, that she shut her mouth in stunned silence. Later she'd think back on it and continue her delightful little fantasy of what else he could get her to do with his King voice. "I couldn't…you know, get it…up. For her. And demon baby or not, if I ever lay eyes on her again I will slit her throat. I hate that woman. She's vile and evil. And she used us, devious harpy…"

"Focus, Alistair," she told him.

"Right. Well. She did some kind of, I don't know. Spell. Enchantment. Whatever you want to call it. It felt like a dream. I was in this happy place – "

"Gross."

"Not that kind of happy place. Yours is the only happy place that I've known, as far as I'm concerned. I haven't, with anyone else I mean. Not since… It's okay if you have. I mean. I understand if you have. Not that this means we're together again. Unless you want to be. I want to be. Do you want to be?"

She paused, chewing on her lip before answering honestly, "I don't know. Finish your story and then we'll deal with finding Sylvia."

"And us? I still love you, you know."

"I know. I…"

"You would do well to let me enter," an accented voice piped up from outside the door. They could hear hushed voices and one rather gruff one, but could not make out the words.

"Zevran," Alexa breathed, pushing away a bit from Alistair and turning to face the door, grateful her friend had come to her rescue. She didn't need him to rescue her from physical harm at this point, but from emotional harm instead. And as her heart cracked open again, his timing could not have been more perfect.

The King's eyebrow rose and he leaned back to look up at her. "Zevran?"

Tiny barked and the redhead crossed the room to pull the door open. "I was wondering how long it would take you to find me."

"Have no fear, for your Zevran is here," the elf flashed a wide grin and he looked over Alexa's shoulder. "Ah, I see our favorite bastardly King has found us. It was taking so long for you to send a message to the Warden I had almost thought we would have to send a search party for you ourselves."

"What are you talking about, Zevran? Alistair needs our help."

"So you did not get…no, of course not. Well, your majesty," Zevran dropped into a deep bow with a flourish before grinning up through his bright blonde hair. "How do you need Zevran to service you?"

Alistair, it seemed, could still blush from tip to root. "My-my daughter was kidnapped. The guards cannot find anything."

"You're daughter?" All three of them ignored Evans' spluttering in the hallway, complaining that the King had not given the guards adequate time to locate the girl before enlisting the help of that red haired bitch. "Perhaps you should call her your niece in front of Alexa, lest she separate you from your more favored body parts."

"He adopted her, Zev," Alexa told him quietly.

The elf nodded, "I see. It all makes sense now."

"She was late in returning from her lessons. As she is fascinated by sword play, she will usually stop to watch the men train. She has even convinced one of my Captains to take her under his wing and begin tutoring her." Alistair shrugged, sheepish. "Who am I to tell the girl she cannot wield a sword?"

"And so you didn't notice her tardiness?" Alexa filled in.

"I got pulled into a meeting with the bloody nobles. They were complaining that we were spending too many resources in rebuilding the Alienage. It was late when I got to my rooms. We…she has this thing about the dark…" Alistair paused, obviously unsure if he ought to reveal the girl's secrets. "She has not had a pleasant childhood. So each night before I go to bed, I check on her and we make sure the room is safe. Surely you can understand how I cannot turn from a child who has been abandoned from everyone who should have loved her?"

"I do not think that either of us would begrudge you for taking her under your wing," Zevran told him, a gentle smile on his face.

"Well, I got there that night and she was not there. She has taken to exploring the palace when she is bored and so I assumed she had done that. And then I found this note. We searched the palace top to bottom. She was gone."

"Did they ask for a ransom?" Alexa asked quietly.

"No. No you don't understand, it was written to sound as if it had come from her. They're trying to make me think she ran away. But she wouldn't have left."

Alexa and Zevran shared a glance before the redhead reached out and placed a hand on Alistair's arm. "There is no gentle way to ask this Alistair, but are you sure she didn't just rob you blind and took off in the middle of the night?"

"No, she didn't just leave. She's not you," he snapped, frustrated. Tiny growled his disapproval and Alexa merely pursed her lips at him. "Sorry. I'm sorry. My head is spinning and I can't…apparently I am still unable to think around you."

"When was she taken?" Alexa finally asked after what seemed to be a very long and uncomfortable silence.

"Three days ago."

"I will see what I can do. But Alistair, if I find her and she has truly left of her own will…"

"Then she has left."

Zevran was already hovering near the door as Alexa stared down at Alistair's form. His elbows were propped up on his knees and he looked as if someone had placed the weight of all that the Maker created upon his shoulders. I still love you, he had said to her. She had been filled with such a righteous anger for so long. It was quite a shock to see that all this time she had been more angry with herself than with her precious, precious King. Words couldn't come close to portraying her thoughts and feelings so instead she leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of his head.

"I will find her. For you." She whispered it quietly to him. "And then we will talk."


	5. Chapter 5

It took half a day to find someone at the palace who had seen something unusual the night that Sylvia had disappeared. From what Alexa had learned, the girl did indeed resemble her. So much so, in fact, that the girl would run around the courtyard with her brilliant red hair in braids while brandishing a sword and proclaiming that she was truly the Hero of Fereldan. One of the maids enjoyed her curiosity and would often sneak her treats while filling her with stories of the Hero's accomplishments. She had heard what had sounded like a cry and was going to investigate when Evans summoned her to another part of the palace. Since she wasn't really in a position to argue with the Commander of the Royal Guard, she did as she was bade. Alexa had pressed a coin into her palm as a thanks for her time and received a promise to keep that information to herself from there on out.

The sun was crawling over the horizon of Denerim as Alexa and Zevran made it back to the Inn where they had a long standing room. With a sigh, she began to peel off her armor. Tiny curled up in a corner where a lush pillow had been fluffed for him, licking at his paws.

"So you have yet to speak of his majesty, mon cher," Zev pointed out as Alexa yawned across the room. "Does your heart feel the pitter patter of love once again? Or have you truly moved on as you claimed?"

"I…don't know," she answered after a brief hesitation.

"Do not lie to me," the elf scolded gently. "It is almost as bad as lying to yourself."

"What makes you think I am lying to myself?"

"Ah my dear Warden, Zev knows you better than you know yourself at times, no?" His armor was tossed into a corner, daggers carefully stashed near his bed. Alexa ducked around the corner and behind the wall that separated their beds to change into an oversized sleep shirt. It had been worn nearly threadbare and she had almost forgotten that the topic of their conversation had once owned it. "Besides, it's not often an accomplished lover such as myself is called another man's name while in the act of lovemaking."

With a shocked expression, she padded out to look at him. "What are you talking about?"

Zevran shrugged, tugging a pair of comfortable linen slacks on over his smallclothes and pulling the braids out of his shiny hair. "You kept calling me by his name. The last time you begged me to play the King and his servant girl."

"I did no such thing!" Alexa protested.

"Ah, my beauty, but you did. Do not worry, I am not offended. In fact, why do you think I began to send letters to his majesty telling him where you were?"

"I didn't want him to know where I was. If I had wanted him to know where I was, I would have told him."

"My dear Warden," he chuckled when her nose wrinkled; she hated being called that, "If you had not wanted him to know where you were, you wouldn't clank around this city in plate mail."

She paused, not wanting to admit he had a point.

"So now that you have been reunited with our Alistair, will you settle in Denerim and take your place by his side?"

"I don't know, Zev. I think about him all the time."

"Yes, especially at night when you think I am asleep." The elf's twinkling laugh had her blushing.

"He cheated on me. With Morrigan."

"He partook in a magic ritual to save your life."

"He cheated on me," Alexa repeated.

"He made a sacrifice for your well-being. The woman was a viper. I may have joked, but I would not have fucked her with Loghain's dick."

"He slept with her. He made a child with her."

"Something you wish to do, no? So is it, my dear, the fact that he slept with her or the fact that she was able to produce offspring when you yourself do not believe you will be able to."

Alexa sighed and sunk onto the corner of his bed. "Couslands have never had an issue in reproducing. Our line has always been strong. Hell, Fergus and his wife are already expecting."

Zevran sat next to his friend and comrade, an arm around her waist. "Then why do you listen to what that man Riordan had told you instead of what you know? You are the one who brought the nation together. You are the one who stopped the Blight. How many people told you it could not be done?"

"I had help."

"And in the act of making a child, my dear, you would have help as well no?"

Alexa laughed. "Lots and lots of help."

"And you are young yet. Your will is stronger than the taint. You have made kings. You have slain dragons. Do not let some fool man tell you that you may not be able to do something." Zevran smiled as she leaned into him.

"How did you get to be so smart?"

"Years of experience, mon cher," he laughed. "Come. It is time for sleep and I fear the demons may get me in my sleep should you not protect me." It was an old game between old friends when he knew she needed to be held but felt too vulnerable to actually ask. So, instead, Zevran would ask her to protect him. It was not a high price to pay for the pleasure of sleeping next to a beautiful woman, so asking was not a hardship for him.

With a yawn and a nod, Alexa climbed into bed next to him, wondering not for the first time if Alistair had someone in bed with him. She let out a sigh and Zevran poked her gently.

"He does not."

"Who doesn't what?"

"The King. He sleeps alone. As he has since we departed Denerim."

"How do you always know what I'm thinking."

"Pure talent, my dear. Perhaps you would like to experience my other extensive talents as well."

"Not tonight, honey. I have a headache." Snickering at her joke, Alexa rolled onto her side and snuggled her back against him. The elf curled around her and drifted off to sleep. Alexa lay there for a while, thinking about the young girl they were searching for and thinking about the man who had adopted her.


	6. Chapter 6

In his palace, the King woke after what seemed to be a strange and short nap. Finding himself unable to sleep, especially after the emotional night he had with Alexa – and Zevran his mind kept telling him – and the loss of Sylva. Thankfully his dreams were filled with cheese and silly things. It had been his name day and he had walked into a room with a giant round of cheese and then Alexa had popped out of it wearing nothing but a smile.

Alistair grinned to himself, flushing a little. It had been a good dream. He would have loved to indulge in bed, something he rarely desired to do and even more rarely had the opportunity, but he had more meetings that morning.

First things first, however. He wanted to have a little chat with his Commander of the Guard in regards to his … behavior the previous night.

Settling behind his desk in a golden tunic with matching slacks, the blonde concentrated on the stack of papers he needed to address. A servant bustled around behind him, opening curtains and making the bed. A tray was set on the desk next to him with his breakfast of good, strong tea, fresh eggs with cheese, a variety of little sausages, and warm biscuits.

He reviewed a letter from the Wardens at Vigil's Keep, chewing idly on a biscuit he had heaped with cheese and sausage. The mage he had granted clemency from the Templars so he could become a Gray Warden had disappeared. What was his name again? Albert? George? Something like that. The Wardens had mentioned they believed he went north to the Free Marches. Alistair scribbled out a short response, sealed the letter, and placed it on his desk. He was chewing thoughtfully as Evans strode into his rooms, clad in full plate.

Seeing him dressed as such always made Alistair feel a bit on the naked side. He had spent so long in armor that wearing regular clothes was foreign to him. And since they had lost Wade to the Keep, he had been unable to find an armor smith that made anything that held up under his close scrutiny. So he spent his time in kingly robes and whatnot, donning his armor when he made public appearances or held large audiences. It was a sad state of affairs in his opinion and hoped that sometime in the near future he could make the trip to the Keep.

"Your majesty," Evans greeted and bowed deeply.

Alistair's eyebrows rose and he set his breakfast down. "You attacked the Hero of Fereldan and disregarded a direct order from your King."

"She was insulting you, my liege."

"No, she was angry with me. But she spoke the truth. While she may have been bred the Lady Cousland of Highever, once joining the Gray Wardens she lost all manner of title and affiliation. The Wardens do not swear fealty to any crown. In addition, being the Hero of Fereldan grants her a little bit of leniency."

"That does not give her the right to speak treason."

"She was calling me by my first name and stating that she had not allegiance to my crown," Alistair said calmly even though the memory of Evans holding onto Alexa's arm and drawing his sword made him want to clench his fists. "There is quite a bit of history between Alexa and myself. It ended badly and it was my fault that it ended as such. If she had come up and slapped me I would have allowed it. When we went there I gave you specific instructions that she was not to be treated as a threat."

"If she had slapped you I would have removed her hand," Evans responded darkly.

"Okay," the King responded, drawing out his vowels. "We obviously are not on the same page here. So let me simplify it for you. You. Disobeyed. A direct order. You will be punished."

"What? Why?"

"You attacked the Hero of Fereldan! When I told you not to!" Alistair's fist came down on the desk angrily, startling them both. He stood and went up to Evans, looking him in the eyes. "And if you touch her again, I will remove more than your hand. You are being given a week suspension without pay. If I lay eyes on you before one week from this moment, you will be stripped of rank and given to the Wardens. Maybe then you will understand why you overreacted."

"But…your majesty please," Evans spluttered.

"No. I want you out of my sight." Alistair turned and settled back at his desk. He let his right hand drop to the small shelf built underneath and grip the pommel of his sword while picking up his biscuit with the left, looking intently at the papers in front of him. He heard Evans' armor clank as he walked out the door and breathed a sigh of relief. For a moment there, he was honestly afraid the man might attack him. That man was unstable. But for now, he would have to wait to figure out what to do with him until Sylvia was found. As his grip relaxed on the sword a gentle knock sounded on the doorframe and he looked up from his breakfast. "Ah, Captain McNair."

The young Captain stood at attention, clearly unsure what to make of being summoned to the King's personal quarters. "You requested to see me, your majesty?"

"Yes. Commander Evans is going to be on leave for the next week," Alistair told him diplomatically.

The Captain's brows knit together, unsure what to make of this information. "I see, your majesty."

"I've heard good things about you, McNair," Alistair continued. "I'd like you to take over his duties for the week. You will be compensated with additional pay to make up for the additional duties you will be assigned."

"I…I am honored, your majesty. I will not let you down."

Alistair gave the guard a once over. He was about the same age as the King, maybe a year or two younger. He had the wide physique of a well-honed warrior and stood about a half a head taller. Young, yes, but definitely emanated the prowess of skill and ability. "You will do quite well. Yes, I do believe you will do quite well. There is another matter I wish to inform you of."

"Yes, your majesty."

Alistair's nose wrinkled. He really hated being called that sometimes. "The Hero of Fereldan is investigating an issue for me. If she comes to the palace for any reason, I am to be informed immediately. She is granted unlimited access to myself and is not to be told I am unavailable at any time."

"I understand, your majesty."

"Good. Also? There is to be no weapon or hand raised against her or her party members at any time. I don't care if she puts a sword to my throat. Take it from me, that woman is a force to be reckoned with." Alistair laughed fondly, recalling a memory of her battle prowess.

McNair nodded. He knew full well that the man in front of him had travelled all of Fereldan with Alexa Cousland, at many times being her right hand man. He wasn't fool enough to try to take her on. But he knew that Evans had attempted to do that very thing the night before. Suddenly he understood why he was going to be doing Evans' job for the next week.

"Do you have any questions?"

"None, your majesty."

"Good." With a warm smile, Alistair turned back to his desk. He really needed to get through some of that bloody paperwork.


	7. Chapter 7

"There is no trace of her," Alexa muttered angrily. It had been three days since her meeting with Alistair and she had been getting daily inquiries as to her progress. And the more he asked what was going on, the more frustrated she became that she had next to no information. Sitting in the Gnawed Noble, she slammed down a mug of ale.

"Maybe she really did run away?" Zevran questioned. It didn't feel right though.

Alexa apparently felt the same way as she vehemently shook her head. "No. If she'd run off there would be a trace of her. A merchant would have seen her, the larder in the palace would have been looted. She would have had to get supplies somewhere, even if she'd been squirreling it away. She didn't take her clothes, her pack, or even that silly little sword Alistair gave her. And from what I've been told of that girl, her sword was…was…"

"Like part of her soul," Zevran supplied with a knowing nod. His daggers were like extensions of his arms. He wasn't sure he could function without them, but he was sure that Alexa felt the same way. Taking a sword away from a warrior was like a mage being made Tranquil. They were an empty shell, a mere shadow of the person they once were.

"When I was her age I had my own sword. I've been training since I was old enough to carry the weight of it – by my mother's request no less. Being a girl wasn't a reason for me to stay inside and learn how to sew. If I was expected to be a Noblewoman I was expected to be able to protect my land and my people. And that meant learning how to wield a sword." Alexa chuckled, blushing a little into her ale. "Well, for me it meant a sword. She tried to teach me how to shoot a bow for years. It took shooting an arrow in my brother's knee for her to let my father put a sword in my hands."

"I've seen you try to shoot a bow, my dear," Zevran commented. "Your mother was a wise woman to take it away from you."

"She was." Alexa thought about what she was like at age ten and shook her head slightly, smiling. Hellion though she was, her parents still doted on her. She had been one of the few, it seemed, that grew up in a happy, well-balanced family. "What were you like when you were ten?"

"Me? Oh, there was not much of me to speak of at that age. I had been sold into slavery and would be purchased by the Crows soon after."

A chill washed over Alexa's spine. It was pretty rare in Denerim, but it still happened. Zevran's eyes narrowed as the same thought apparently went through his mind. "Slavery. What if she was sold into slavery."

"But by whom? The King certainly would not have done so."

"Then by somebody who wants to hurt him or undermine him in some way," was Alexa's response.

"Like who? Who does not like our happy-go-lucky King?" They both thought for a few moments. "What about that one mage…the grumpy one?"

"Dead," Alexa responded.

"Isolde?"

"Dead."

"Loghain."

"Dead."

"Anora?"

Alexa shook her head, "No, she's dead too."

"Really? When did that happen?" Zevran raised an eyebrow as Alexa gave him a very pointed look. "Oh, that's right. Well, any of Loghain's or Anora's supporters could have done it."

"With enough coin, anybody could be behind it," Alexa commented, finishing her ale. "Come on, let's go check it out."


	8. Chapter 8

"Wait! Wait! Please, don't kill me! I have information!"

Alexa's sword stopped in mid-stroke and the slaver who was begging for his life sank to his knees on the ground. She, Zevran, and Tiny were surrounded by corpses in an alleyway outside of the Alienage, having been attacked the moment they came into view. The various slavers and thugs that had tried to keep her from seeing whatever they were up to had obviously underestimated her and those with her. But this one…this one seemed to have enough self-preservation to offer up whatever he could and beg for mercy.

"Speak quickly, fool," Alexa sneered.

"There's a girl. That little red haired bitch that the King keeps around," the man said quickly. Her stomach turned as she kept the sneer in place.

"What do I care about some little red haired bitch?"

"The King does! She's like a daughter to him. If-if you spare me. I will tell you where she is. I'm sure she'd be worth a handsome reward."

"Tell me."

"On your word you will spare my life?"

Alexa reached down and grabbed the collar of his grubby, grimy shirt. Yanking him up, she held the edge of her blade to his throat and glared into his face. "You are in no position to be making demands."

"She's being taken to Gwaren. She's bound for a ship leaving for Kirkwall in three days' time."

"When did they leave?" Alexa demanded.

"I-"

"When?" she yelled and the man shook, wetting himself.

"Yesterday. They left yesterday! A caravan of her and four other girls with eight guards. There's a man in Kirkwall who pays extra for the young ones."

"How pathetic," Zevran sneered.

Alexa's blade slipped through his neck without hesitation and she let his body drop to the ground with the rest of them. "We're going to need horses. Fast ones."


	9. Chapter 9

They raced through the countryside, having sent a letter to Alistair on Tiny's collar. It was rare for Alexa to be separated from him, but the speed they needed to would have made it nearly impossible for the Mabari to keep up. However, now that their suspicions were confirmed, she wanted to make sure the King stayed safe. And if she couldn't be there, Tiny would be the next best thing. Along with the letter, there were several other messages to be passed on to her former party members. Other than Sten and Morrigan, everyone was within two days hard ride of Denerim. And she had the sneaking suspicion that at some point in the near future she would need people she trusted.

Travelling light, the two hurried their horses on as fast and as long as they possibly could. By nightfall they were nearing the caravan and once the moon stood full in the sky, they had gotten close enough to make out the shapes of the wagons. Alexa slid off her horse, Zevran following suit, and they walked to a nearby grove, staying in the shadows. They tied the horses near some water and left them to cool down. The girls were close by and if needed, the would make camp down near the horses once they'd been retrieved from the slavers.

As the pair crept closer to the caravan, noise erupted from one of the small tents.

"Bloody little bitch!" a man's voice yelled and was followed by the sound of skin on skin as someone was slapped.

"Touch me again, you blighted nug humper. I dare you," came the angry reply from a female voice. Alexa was just outside the tent by then, Zevran flanking her and keeping an eye out for the guards.

"Or what?" There was another slap then, followed by a muffled cry of someone in pain. Alexa flung the tent open, her jaw set and sword drawn. A man in rather sad looking armor was looming over a small girl who looked to be about eight or nine years. He had a hand around her throat and was winding up the other to backhand her again, too enraged to realize they were no longer alone. The girl realized it though and when Alexa's silvery eyes met with her terrified green ones, a stripe of brilliant red hair fell in her face. Sylvia. With reflexes honed with years of training, Alexa moved behind the man and grabbed a fistful of his hair, putting her sword to his neck.

"Let the girl go or forfeit your life." The threat was spoken so quietly that Sylvia had to strain to hear it. The slaver's eyes widened though; he heard it loud and clear. When he complied, Alexa stepped backwards, fist still wrapped with his hair, and pulled him away from the girl. Zevran slipped around them and put himself between Sylvia and the slaver. "How many of you are there."

"There are three others."

"Do not lie to me," she hissed at him.

"I would not do it," Zevran told the slaver. "The last man who did, well, he did not live to regret it. But who in their right mind would lie to the Hero of Fereldan?"

The slaver's face went ghost white, the color draining out of it when he learned Alexa's identity. "Six more guards. Two caravan drivers."

"And the other girls?"

"What other girls?" his confused expression was sincere and Alexa's teeth ground together. "I swear. That little brat is the only one here."

"I'll give you 'brat'," Sylvia muttered and darted around Zevran, planting her fist in the slaver's genitals. Zev and Alexa shared an amused glance as the slaver struggled to keep his throat away from her sword and hold his balls at the same time.

"Who hired you?" Alexa questioned, taking advantage of his distracted state.

"Evans. Evans hired us," he gasped out.

"To what end?"

"I don't know."

Zevran rolled his eyes. "It is obvious he is unwilling to cooperate. We should just kill him and be done with it, mon cher."

"You're right," Alexa breathed out sadly.

"No! We were supposed to take the bi- um, the girl to Kirkwall. Sell her to Tevinter slavers and get her out of Fereldan."

"Why." It was said flatly, more a demand than a question.

"Evans thought she was a threat to the King. Said she was an assassin."

"I would never hurt him," Sylvia protested.

"That's not what Evans claimed," the slaver responded. The whole plot came spilling out of his mouth then. How they plucked her from her bedroom, kept her hidden in the city until they could transport her north. Their caravan had been delayed in leaving so they were forced to keep Sylvia drugged until they got on the road. Once she had woken up, however, she had proven to be quite the handful. Evans had, apparently, underestimated the girl and sent her along with a group of halfwits and thugs. He got to the point of where the girl had almost escaped and he dragged her into his tent to teach her a lesson when Alexa decided she'd heard enough.

"Zev," her voice was quiet and full of dark promise. Her companion moved and shielded the girl's view. Sylvia struggled a bit until he pulled her out of the tent. She and the slaver seemed to understand what was going on at the same time because as she left view he let out a shrill half-scream. It was cut off abruptly, punctuated with a sick gurgle and a thump as Alexa followed after Zevran and the girl. "Take her to the horses."

"I want to stay with you," Sylvia protested.

Alexa shook her head. "Stay with Zevran. I need to deal with…all of this." The girl didn't budge and Alexa sighed. "I'll be right there. Alistair wouldn't want you to see what I'm about to do. Go on. You'll be safe with him until I return."

Reluctantly, Sylvia allowed herself to be led quietly from the camp while Alexa made short work of those within it. She dug through their equipment, pocketing whatever coin or items of interest that she found. In a chest, the redhead found documents with Evans' house seal on it, instructing them to be rid of the girl. With a sigh, she turned and headed towards where they had left their horses. It was going to be a long night and, since they had pushed the beasts so hard, a long trek back.

When she emerged into the light of the small camp, Sylvia gasped, startled, then flung herself at the woman. "I didn't think you would come back."

"I said I would, and I always keep my word," was Alexa's reply. "Now, we have not been properly introduced. I am – "

"You are the Hero of Fereldan," Sylvia responded eagerly.

"Yes, quite. But you should call me Alexa, hmmm?"

"I'm Sylvia. Sylvia Caron, though Papa Alistair says it is now Theirin since he has adopted me."

"Your papa is a smart man," Alexa told her with a smile. Well, he was most of the time anyway. Unless there was cheese in the room. Then he was a child. "You ought to listen to him."

Small green eyes filled with sudden tears and Alexa squatted down so she wasn't looming over the girl, concerned. "He's going to be mad at me. They told him I ran away. They told me he didn't even look for me."

"That's a bald faced lie," Zevran piped up. "It was the King himself who sent the two of us."

"Really?"

"Yes, really," Alexa told her with a soft smile. "Now, it is late. And you ought to get some sleep. We will head back to Denerim in the morning."

After they had settled Sylvia in for the night, giving her a space out in the open near the fire since she had panicked slightly at the thought of being closed off in a tent. Once her breathing had evened out, Alexa and Zevran poured through the documents they had found.

"That bully of a man ordered her to be kidnapped and sold into slavery," Alexa muttered angrily. "But why? Who would really think a ten year old would be a threat?"

"It would not be impossible to train a child so young," Zevran postulated. "But there is wild fear in this girl. She is brave, hardened by the street but not by training. And there is love in her for our Alistair. If she had been sent to hurt him, she no longer has the will to do so."

"Are you saying it is impossible to hurt those we love?"

"No, I am saying this girl poses no threat to the King. She may, however, pose a threat to you," he laughed.

"Oh? Why is that?"

"So intense is her love for the King that when shown his devotion to you, she may become jealous and try to slit your pretty little throat." Alexa made a face, not really looking forward to competing with a ten year old for Alistair's affections. "Ah, so you have made the choice to forgive him, mon cher."

"You are a devious bastard, Zevran," the redhead scolded him. "And so what if I have. That doesn't mean anything."

"Yes, my dear," was the smirking response.

"Ugh. You're taking first watch," Alexa decided and moved near Sylvia, laying her bedroll out next to the girl's. Zevran watched the two of them together. Alistair was right, the young girl did look quite a bit like the Warden. Their hair was almost the same exact shade and while the features were different, they both had a rather fine bone structure. There was a delicacy that made a man want to protect, a deviousness that made a man want to take advantage. With a sigh, he settled down on the outskirts of their little camp, sharpening a dagger while he assumed watch.


	10. Chapter 10

Zevran started awake, the sound of metal on metal as swords clashed pushing him to his feet as he drew his daggers.

"Warden!" he hollered, looking around for the threat. The tinkling sound of female laughter drifted to him and his eyes narrowed.

"Over here, Zev," Alexa called and he sheathed his weapons. Their horses whinnied as he moved around them, sun already full in the sky. He was pleased to see they had been tended to and no longer looked ready to drop. How did he manage to sleep so late? He found Alexa and Sylvia standing next to each other, swords drawn.

"Ah, but who could sleep when there is such beauty about?" his accented voice asked as he shook his head.

"You, apparently," Sylvia teased.

Alexa laughed. "We were having a lesson. I told Sylvia if she is going to carry that thing around with her, she was going to learn how to use it. And…?"

Recognizing the prompt, Sylvia dropped the tip of her blade and recited. "And how to care and respect for your blade. If you do not care for your blade's well-being, it will not care for yours. And a blade that does not care is an open invitation to forfeit your life."

"Well perhaps you can move your lesson closer to camp, so I may learn a thing or two while I make us breakfast."

"Breakfast!" Sylvia responded eagerly and Alexa nodded, stomach gurgling.

"Be grateful it's Zev making us breakfast. Alistair made us breakfast once and it was hard as a rock. Used the last of our oats that morning, didn't he?" Alexa asked Zevran, who tittered as he remembered the lump of charred nasty that Alistair had attempted to serve them.

"What about that stew?"

"Ugh, Maker help us, that was not a stew. That was a punishment for crimes yet not committed." Alexa leaned down conspiratorially to Sylvia, who's eyes were twinkling from the stories. "It was this awful gray stew. Tiny had spent the day collecting rabbits for us."

"Tiny?"

"My Mabari. You will meet him when we return to Denerim. As I was saying, Tiny had collected a fair number of rabbits for us and Alistair spent the day talking up this delicious rabbit stew."

"That was not stew," Zevran muttered. "That was a gray slime with chunks of charred bunny. I do believe I ate bark that night as it was the better option."

"Papa Alistair never told me that."

"Ah, he told you many stories of our adventures then?" Zevran charmed while Alexa began to pick up around the campsite.

"Oh yes! He told me about being in the Fade and the Deep Roads and meeting the Daelish. He told me how the Hero – how Alexa," she corrected herself, flashing an impish grin at the woman in question, "Had the most glorious singing voice."

Zevran chuckled. "Ah yes, our fearless leader can sing quite the pretty tune. Tell me, my dear, how was it you came to live with the King?"

Sylvia blushed, looking down at her toes. "I thought he looked like an easy mark."

"I once thought the same thing," he laughed with her.

"Well he was walking around and he wasn't paying attention to anything. And I hadn't eaten in almost three days because Jebra was getting mad that I wasn't bringing in my share."

"Jebra?"

"Nug humping bastard," the ten year old muttered.

"Language, young lady," came Alexa's automatic response. For one chilling moment, she heard her mother's voice in her own.

"Sorry. He ran the orphanage I grew up in. We would…" Sylvia hesitated, noticing how intently the adults were watching her.

"Go on, Sylvia," Alexa prompted gently. "We have all done things we are not proud of. You are safe with us. We will not judge you. But we think someone is trying to use you to hurt Alistair, so we need to know everything."

With a nod and a reluctant sigh, Sylvia continued telling her story. "He would make us rob people, steal things. Said he wasn't getting enough from the Crown to feed all of us and that if we didn't earn our keep he would sell us to the Tevinter mages to be brought back as slaves. I managed to escape a few times, but he always found me and he always brought me back. He always brought us all back, beating us until we couldn't move… Anyway, I wasn't doing my share he claimed. When I wasn't out on the street, I was locked in the closet. And I didn't want to be in the closet. I wanted to eat. And he was just standing there, staring at this house, watching these kids playing. He didn't even notice me. That creep Evans did though. I'd almost made it away and he grabbed me. He told the King that they should hang me for my offense."

"Stealing from the Crown usually carries a heavy price," Zevran said idly.

"Yeah…" Sylvia agreed. "Well. Papa Alistair wouldn't let him do it. She's only a girl, a child. A goofy looking one at that." Her imitation of Alistair's voice was almost spot on and it made Alexa smile.

"True, you are a rather silly looking girl. What with all that strange red hair and all."

"It's the same color as yours," Sylvia retorted then cocked her head to her side, studying Alexa's form. "Did he keep me because of you?"

"What makes you think that?"

"Well, in his stories…his voice gets all soft and mushy every time he talks about you. And I heard him arguing with uncle Teagen once about how you were never coming back and it was time for him to move on and find someone to marry. And…we kind of look alike."

"We both have red hair," Alexa told her, shrugging a bit. "But that's like saying Zevran and Alistair look alike because they are both blondes."

Sylvia studied Zevran for several moments, her heart beat increasing when his eyes met hers. "No. Zevran is much prettier than Papa Alistair."

The Elf in question let out a barking laugh at that. "Ah, mon cher, do not tease old Zevran so with your kind words."

"You're not old," Sylvia whispered bravely.

Laughing on the inside, Alexa cleared her throat. "So what did Alistair do then?"

"Huh? Oh. He took me to the palace with him. We went in the larder and ate and ate and ate. He ate almost as much as me. The poor cook looked like he was going to be sick. And, I don't know, he decided to keep me I guess. He put someone else in charge of the orphanage, someone from the Chantry. He got me pretty things to wear and gave me my sword. He said if I did well in my lessons then I could learn how to use it. He and Evans would fight about me. Evans called me a…a traitor. Said how Anora wouldn't have stood for such insolence."

Zevran's eyes met Alexa's and she nodded. "Well, Anora is long gone. Come now, mon petite. It is time for your breakfast."

Sylvia ate with gusto while the adults got the horses ready. They didn't push the horses nearly as hard as they had on the way to retrieve the girl, instead taking their time while Alexa's mind worked out the puzzle at hand. Was Evans truly loyal to Anora? But if so, then why was he so insistent on respecting the Crown.

Or was that it? It was the Crown he demanded respect for, not necessarily Alistair's head beneath it. But plotting against Alistair was pointless now that Anora was dead. Blast it all. She really hated politics.

"Sylvia?" Alexa asked quietly, getting the girls attention. They shared a horse while Zevran rode next to them with their supplies.

"Hmm?" came the drowsy response. The girl had chatted nearly non-stop for hours while they travelled and had only recently fallen silent.

"I'm going to need to keep you safe while we look into Evans. Do you trust me?"

"Does that mean I'm not going home yet?"

"That means you will not be going home yet," Alexa confirmed.

Sylvia cuddled back, her head coming to rest against Alexa's chest. The former Gray Warden pressed a kiss to the unruly red hair in front of her, snaking an arm around her waist. "I trust you."


	11. Chapter 11

By the time they had arrived back at the Pearl, a day and a half had gone by and it was nearing night again. Having a child in tow didn't slow them down as much as Alexa had anticipated, which was nice. But then again, having the horses really seemed to speed things up. She really regretted not having them during their travels before.

Alexa draped her cloak over Sylvia's shoulders and leaned down to whisper to the girl. "Talk to no one. Keep the hood up at all times. It is important that you stay hidden until I say it's safe."

"I understand," came the muffled reply as the girl snuggled deeper into the cloak.

As they pushed their way into the Pearl, they could hear Oghran's drunken singing falling out of tune with Liliana's sweet voice. Wynne perked up when she saw Alexa and Zevran enter, eager to be saved from Oghran's drunken ramblings of nug humpers and asschabs. Alexa cocked her head toward the back and she and Zevran herded Sylvia through the bar. The mage gathered up her table mates, leaving a silver on the table in an apology to the waitress, then followed suit towards the back. As they shut the door behind them, Alexa looked around the small, sad little room where she'd first encountered Evans.

"Thank you for coming," she started. "I'm going to need your help with something."

"Anything you need, boss," Oghran grinned at her. Warden stamina, it had appeared, gave Oghran the ability to handle his drink better. Or rather, just gave him an excuse to drink more, for it seemed he was quite a bit more sober than he normally was.

She embraced Liliana and then Wynne before gesturing at Sylvia's cloaked figure. As she pushed the hood down and stepped towards the group, she smiled nervously and gave a polite curtsey. "Everyone, this is Sylvia. Sylvia, this is Oghran, Wynne, and I know you know Liliana."

"Whoa there boss, I didn't know you had a little sister," Oghran said with a laugh.

"She's King Alistair's daughter," Liliana told him and stepped forward to embrace the girl.

"A little young to have kids, ain't he?" he asked. "I mean I was getting my stone polished at his age, but he doesn't have my way with the ladies."

"He adopted her," Alexa told him.

"Really, Oghran, and in front of the child," Wynne scolded him. "So why is it you have Sylvia and not his majesty?"

"She was kidnapped. Alistair asked me to find her since his Guard was incapable of doing it. Turns out his Guard Commander was behind it." Hesitating, she glanced at Sylvia. With a sigh, she continued. If the girl was going to live in the palace and be a King's adopted daughter, she was going to need to learn about espionage. "We think he's one of Anora's supporters. And we think kidnapping her was part of a bigger plan to hurt him. We need to figure out what that plan was and keep her safe in the meantime."

"Why can't I just go home?" Sylvia asked quietly.

"Because," Liliana started, "If they find you're not only alive and well but back at the palace, it may force them to try their hand with assassinating the King or yourself."

"Oh."

"We're not going to let anything happen to you, my dear," Wynne told her and smiled.

As the group gathered and spoke, Sylvia's eyelids began to droop. She made a small nest for herself using Alexa's cloak and a bedroll and began to sleep. The sensation of rather strong arms carrying her pulled her from her slumber. Cracking open an eyelid, she saw Alexa's face near hers as the woman carried her. What seemed like moments later she was being set in a soft bed. Half asleep, Sylvia assisted however she could in removing her travel dirtied garments and let a clean sleep shirt be slipped over her head. Several minutes later, the mattress dipped down next to her and what was becoming a familiar scent enveloped her while Alexa curled up next to her.

"Can I ask you something?" she braved, eyelids still heavy.

An arm wrapped around her waist and she felt Alexa's voice tickle her ear. "You may ask me anything you like."

"Why did you leave Papa Alistair?"

"What do you mean?"

"He told me he was going to marry you. But then you left."

"I…" Alexa sighed, reaching a hand up to stroke the young girl's hair. "He did something to save my life and I reacted poorly to it. I was hurt and angry and acted on impulse instead of talking to him about it."

"So if you'd a talked to him…would that have meant you'd be my mom?"

An ache in her heart that she hadn't even known was there twinged in Alexa's chest as she tightened her grip on Sylvia in a half hug. "Probably."

"I would have liked that," came the girl's sleepy response.

Alexa stroked her hair, listening as her breathing evened out. As the girl drifted off, she whispered, "I would have liked that too."


	12. Chapter 12

As it turned out, Evans was the head of a very shaky group that had supported Anora. Most people were in favor of the changes that Alistair was behind. The city was flourishing, crime was at an all-time low, and the population was stronger than ever. In fact, a lot of his supporters were Guards whom Evans had leverage over. The fact that a group of grown men would support in the decision to sell a little girl off into slavery really chapped her ass. She had learned over the next couple of days that Evans had been given mandatory leave, which really did not sit well with him. She was relatively sure he was planning something today when he returned back to his post.

Alexa pushed open the doors to the great hall of the palace, guards scrambling around her. Light shined off the polished armor she wore, announcing to all who she was. Her sword was in easy grasp and she held her shield in her hand as opposed to keeping it strapped like normal. Her party flanked her, looking every bit as menacing as she felt. Wynne's staff hit the ground and a blue cloud of magic surrounded them, making the guards take several steps backwards.

Alistair sat on his throne, his own armor glimmering. Tiny hunkered down next to him, letting out a loud and happy bark when Alexa entered the room. Evans stood to the other side of the King and glowered at her, sneering when he saw the group she was with.

"What nerve you have coming here baring weapons against the King," he growled.

"Oh stuff a sock in it, you sodding nug humper," was Alexa's response. Oghran grunted his approval at her choice of words and Evans' face flushed. As Alexa stepped forward, chin tilted up defiantly, her party grouped together. Alistair thought he caught a glimpse of someone in the middle of them, but their armor was too thick to get a good look. That and the love of his life was currently baiting the Commander of his Guard…again.

"I should have stayed in bed today," he muttered. Then, clearing his voice, he spoke louder. "Commander, you will stand down."

"I will do no such thing," Evans fired back. "This woman is a threat to the Crown."

"Yes, but who's crown?" Alexa questioned. "Certainly not Alistair's. Why would I help him gain the throne if I were going to turn around and cut his head out from under it? And Cailan, well, I only met him a handful of times. What of Loghain? That crazy bastard deserved to die and if I could go back, I would do it again. In fact, I think his head landed right where you're standing…now that I think about it. But no, it was neither Cailan or Loghain you had any allegiance to."

"Shut your whore mouth." Evans' face was turning a rude shade of purple and he gripped at his sword.

"Careful, Evans. Remember what I told you last we met?" Alexa warned. His hand sword stayed, but his eyes narrowed and his knuckles whitened as he gripped the pommel. "So who could it possibly be that you hold allegiance to? Do you want to know how she died?"

"Alexa," Zevran warned. There were several other guards in the room who were getting twitchy at the confrontation between the her and their Commander. She paid him no attention.

"See, she was foolish enough to think she could take me on. And someone was foolish enough to let her escape from her tower. So instead of attempting to assassinate the King, she came after the person she held responsible." Alexa walked in a slow circle, taunting Evans with every word, distracting him until she stood between him and Alistair. The King had since stood, muscles ready for what was guaranteed to be a fight. "You were so miserable without your precious Queen. It didn't matter that Alistair is a kind and merciful King. That he has brought Fereldan together in ways that his brother and father before them were unable to do. That he stood by my side and helped to end the blight. Not for the glory of it but because it was the right thing to do. And when you saw him happy, you couldn't take it anymore. So you had a little girl kidnapped and sold into slavery, shipped off to Kirkwall to some sycophant who enjoyed violating them. The younger the better, isn't that right."

"I should have killed you when I had the chance," Evans snarled. "You and that little whore bitch."

"Oh, Maker help you, I hope you try."

"I will have your head," he cried and pulled his sword. The ringing metal sent chills up her skin and Alexa blocked the first blow with her shield. It was easy enough work to position him where she wanted, which was as far from Alistair as she could get him. He was working in a blind rage, but without the training of a Berserker to be able to channel it properly, he was swinging wildly and haphazardly.

Around them, some of the Guard launched themselves at her and her party members. She heard Liliana cry out, "Those who are loyal to the King, stand down. Everyone else will meet his Maker!"

Tiny jumped into the fray and Alistair pulled his own sword. An armed figure appeared behind the King, but Zevran's quick reflexes had a dagger spinning through the air and burying itself between the figure's eyes. Guards loyal to him, McNair at the head of them the King was pleased to see, poured into the hall. For a moment, a brief split second, everyone seemed unable to believe what was happening. And as that moment passed, chaos erupted, Alexa and Evans in the middle of it all, the eye of the storm but no more calm than the violance that raged around them. The rage seemed to pour off of the pair and instead fueled the fire rather than quench it.

As their swords clashed, she lost focus on all that was going on around her. She trusted her party to have her back and hearing Alistair's familiar battle cry seemed to infuse her with a passion she hadn't fought with in ages. Thrust, thrust, parry. Over and over, she baited Evans, wearing him down. Occasionally she would bash her shield into his face, just to stun him, just to throw him off. It was apparent to everyone around them that she was baiting him, toying with him as a cat would a mouse, as she waited for the opportune moment.

"Tell him," Alexa demanded with a yell and blocked a blow. "Tell him how you wanted him dead. Tell your King how you plotted against him."

"That bastard is not my King!" Evans hollered. It was all Alexa needed to spring into action, burying her sword into his leg. His knees buckled and he dropped to them, panting and swinging wildly. She kicked his sword out of his hands and it clattered on the stone several feet away. "And I hope that little red haired bitch lives through every depraved thing they do to her just so they can do it to her again and again and again."

As the last of the rebel Guards fell to the ground, the group of her party moved to her side, weapons covered in gore and blood.

"I hate to break it to you, Evans," Alexa sneered. "But the girl never made it to Kirkwall. In fact, we caught up to her just a few hours outside of the city."

"She's okay?" Alistair perked up. "Where is she."

"Safe," was her terse response. Maker help her, she was jealous of a ten year old. Expression darkening, she pressed the tip of her sword to Evans' throat and itched to let the blade slice through skin and bone. "What do you want us to do with him?"

"Let the Guard take him. We will hang him in the morning."

"No!" Evans roared and leaped up, despite his injury, to go after the King. Alexa spun into action and her sword found the sweet spot in his armor, sliding through flesh and bone until metal lining his back made it stop. Evans gasped once and Alexa wrenched the sword out, rendering flesh as she did so.

The room was quiet for several moments as the Commander let out his last breath. When it was done, Alexa sheathed her sword and nodded at her party. "It's safe."

Curious, Alistair watched as they broke formation and revealed a small body covered with a thick, black cloak. The hood bounced back as the figure raced towards him, red pig tails flying out. Sylvia raced towards Alistair, clinging to his armored form as she sobbed. Shocked, he gathered her up in his arms, soothing her.

Alexa watched and pursed her lips, suddenly unsure of what to do. The Guards around them were making sure the dead really were dead, pulling the bodies off to the sides as they went through the mass of gore. Tiny was wriggling next to her, letting out a small woof. With a shrug, she patted his head and started towards the door. Her party followed suit. As loyal as they were and as much as they liked Alistair, they would always follow Alexa over him.

"So, boss," Oghran started. "Where to?"

"I don't know about the rest of you," Alexa muttered. "But I could sure use a drink."

"Woman after my own heart, you are."

She cast a glance over her shoulder, looking back this time at the man who had stolen her heart. He stood amidst the death and gore, golden and pure. He was the reason, she realized, that she was able to continue through her quest to unite Fereldan. He was too good to be tainted by the death and destruction that had haunted them, too good to give up even when all hope was lost. It was also why she had been a fool the last year to be angry with him for doing what he thought was right to save her life. As much as her heart raced being in close proximity to him, it also sunk in her chest as she realized he didn't even notice her departing. But maybe it was for the best. Maybe before it was too soon, thrust into love without building a good foundation. And maybe now it was too late, what was left of their foundation crumbling around their feet. Yes, perhaps it was for the best.


	13. Chapter 13

They were celebrating at the Gnawed Noble, and Alexa was getting drunk. Not just a little tipsy, but full out drunk. She was keeping pace with Oghran, laughing and grinning with her friends. It had been far too long since all of them were together. Granted they were missing a few people but the only one that she really missed was…

"Alistair!" Zevran's voice piped up.

Through her haze, Alexa narrowed her eyes at the elf. "Stop reading my mind, fiend."

He laughed and shook his head. "Ah but only if I could, mon cher. Perhaps I could keep you as my own. Alas, I will have to give you up to our fair and noble King. Who is right behind you, by the way."

The others greeted Alistair as he looked down, studying the drunken group with a hesitant smile. He didn't want to be the King tonight, he wanted to just be Alistair. Liliana scooted over, making room at their booth for Alistair to sit with them. She tugged at Alexa's sleeve for her to follow suit and the two redheads squeezed together to let the warrior's muscular frame slide in next to them. Behind him, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible, stood Captain McNair. He had been given a standing promotion as the new Guard Commander and was so far taking the position very seriously.

"You left without saying good-bye again," Alistair scolded in a low voice, putting his arm possessively around Alexa's shoulders.

She looked at him with the seriousness that only the intoxicated can have, sipping from her own ale. "You didn't stop me from leaving again."

"Is that was I was to do?" he asked, frowning a bit. "I was unaware I was supposed to do that."

"You didn't come after me," Alexa told him. Her party members busied themselves with their drinks and were able to absorb themselves in conversation enough for Alistair and her to have a fair amount of privacy.

"I was supposed to come after you?" the King asked, reaching for Alexa's ale. She looked as if she'd had more than enough and he had the sudden feeling he was entirely too sober for this conversation. Several gulps made the mug's contents disappear and he set the empty glass down on the table.

"You were. You were supposed to take the horn by the bulls. No. Balls. No." Alexa's forehead creased and she shrugged. "You were supposed to come for me. I kept waiting for you."

"And I kept waiting for you, my dear," he responded. "What a pair we are."

Alexa's eyes began to fill. "I'm sorry. I was so stupid."

"Shhh, my love. There is no need to apologize. It is I who should be apologizing to you." He traced his fingers over her jaw. "Sylvia was asking for you tonight. She was very distraught at the idea of you leaving us."

"I'm still here," she protested. "You found me. I made it easy to find me. See? You're a finder person."

"And you're a drunker person."

"It's true," Alexa giggled. Her expression changed as her eyes grew wide. Alistair found it fascinating, watching the emotions play across her smooth skin. "I wouldn't leave her. She wants to be my mom."

"I'm…sorry?"

"Sylvia! She asked if we had been together if that would have made her my mom." Alexa blinked, thinking about what she'd just said. "Her mom. It would have made me her mom."

"And it would have made you my wife," Alistair said.

"I'm a Warden. I can't be a wife."

"It is my understanding that you essentially told the Gray Wardens what they could do with their joining ritual, taint, and themselves once the Blight was over."

"I did! I told them they were nug humpers – "

"Here, here!" Oghran interrupted, cheering her on.

"Yes! And that they could take their blighted blighting Blight and stick it where Andraste couldn't see it." She tried to stand up, raising an arm in victory. Instead she sort of toppled over and half crawled into Alistair's lap. Alexa stilled, very, very close to his face, and studied him intently. "You have the prettiest eyes I have ever seen in my entire life. I think I'm going to be sick."

With reflexes that made the two rogues raise their eyebrows, clearly impressed with him, Alistair got up from the table with the smaller warrior and carried her gently to one of the smaller, private rooms. Ignoring the cheers and jeers, he disappeared into one of them and gently set the redhead down.

Alexa stood on her feet, weaving back and forth for a few moments, before dropping to her knees in front of the, thankfully clean, chamber pot. Alistair pulled her hair out from around her face, rubbing at her back while making soothing sounds. When her stomach was empty and the room didn't spin quite so badly, she slumped back against him.

McNair had retrieved a pitcher of water and a mug, bringing it quietly into the room before shutting the door behind him. He took his post outside the door, standing alertly in front of it with his arms crossed over his chest.

Inside, Alistair poured Alexa some water, both of them sitting on the floor.

"Do you remember that tavern in Orzammar?" she asked drowsily.

"The one where you and Liliana got drunk and tried to pull nugs out of your armor?"

"Yes. And you held me until the room stopped spinning and then we made love for hours and hours."

"It was closer to about twenty minutes," Alistair commented dryly, scooping her up.

"It was hours and hours," Alexa corrected. "And you kept saying it was better than cheese."

"With you, everything is better than cheese," he grinned and carried her to the bed.

"It was the best night of my life."

"Mine too." Alistair concentrated on getting her boots off, fingers fumbling with the laces. Once he pulled off the second one, he looked up at her with a victorious grin only to see she was half asleep. Shaking his head a bit, he worked on tugging off her breeches, leaving her clad only in the soft tunic. He pulled his own tunic off and crawled into the bed with her, putting an arm around her waist. "I've missed you."

Alexa nuzzled into him on instinct, burrowing her face in the crook of his neck and flinging limbs across his body. Eyes opening just enough to make out his form, she murmured something that sounded an awful lot like 'naked.'

"Hmmm?" was his drowsy response. Struggling to sit up, Alexa pushed the covers off of her. He watched her move so she was kneeling on the mattress and stretch up to start tugging at her tunic. "What're you doing?"

"I'm warm," she complained, peeling the fabric off her skin.

"But now you're…" Alistair stammered. Her skin was as pale as he remembered it and his hands itched to touch, especially those pert breasts. They weren't huge, instead they fit perfectly in the palm of each of his calloused hands. Hair askew from taking off her tunic, Alexa grinned down at him, wiggling on her knees.

"Naked?" she finished for him. A pout formed on her lips and she rubbed her index finger along her lower lip before letting it slide down her neck, along her breastbone, before resting at her navel.

"Yes," he responded, voice thickening.

"I've missed you too, Alistair," Alexa purred, dropping forward to crawl, hands and knees, to where he lay propped up on his elbows.

He blushed, "I didn't think you'd heard that."

"I have messed up a great many things, my dear, sweet, sexy King. But listening to you is always something I have excelled in."

Her face was so close to his that he could smell the ale on her breath. Her pale silver eyes glinted with dark desire. Unable to resist, Alistair reached up with a hand and let it tangle in the firey red tendrils that hung around her face, tugging her even closer. As she inched forward, he could feel his heart pounding in his chest, the anticipation weighing him down as he came off his elbows and sunk into the mattress. His other hand came up and trailed lightly down her hip. He'd almost forgotten how soft her scarred skin was.

"Am I dreaming?" Alistair whispered.

"Maker help us, I hope not," as Alexa's fierce reply. "For if we are, I hope we never wake."


	14. Chapter 14

"Ugh. Zev, get the bloody door," Alexa grumbled. A male voice grunted at her and she stuck her head under the pillow, shoving at the body curled around her. "Zevran! Get the bloody door before I kill whoever is pounding on it."

"S'nobody there," was the response.

"Then why's someone pounding on it?" she demanded.

"It's your head, my dear lady," the voice responded, the body stiffening. Alexa was rubbing her tongue over her teeth, making faces at how it tasted, when it occurred to her that the voice didn't have an accent. "Tell me, Alexa, how often do you wake up next Zevran."

She blinked, sorting through the alcohol induced haze from the previous night. "Alistair?"

"Yes, my love."

"What are you doing here?" She pulled her head out from under the pillow and squinted in the room. "Where is here? And where are my pants?"

"We're at the Gnawed Noble," Alistair told her. "You were drunk. Are you involved with Zevran?"

"Zev? No," she shook her head a little too violently then pressed her hands to her temples. "Maker… No. We…he cuddles me sometimes when I'm sad."

"I'm sure he does."

"He's not…we're not… Andraste's ass, Alistair," she grumped and buried her head under her pillow again, flinging an arm over his chest.

She muttered something that he couldn't quite understand, so he lifted up the corner of the pillow. "What was that?"

"I said quit being a jealous oaf and turn the bloody sodding lights off."

"You are rather grumpy this morning, aren't you," he questioned with a half smirk, letting the pillow drop over her face. He turned onto his side, letting his fingers dance across her hip. It had been ages since he had woken next to her and, if his memory was right, it was the first time they had ever slept in an actual bed together. "That's unfortunate, considering you will be spending your day in court."

"For what? I did nothing wrong. That bitch had it coming," she grumbled and stretched. Alistair's fingers trailed up her side, leaving a wake of gooseflesh as they moved higher and higher.

"Yeeeess…well," he cleared his throat. "I figured that as my betrothed, you should be properly paraded around."

"Betrothed?"

"Well you confessed your undying love and how you were so sorry you tortured the both of us by repeatedly running away and how you couldn't wait to be my wife and make it up to me for the rest of our lives by rubbing my feet and feeding me cheese."

"I said that?" Alexa looked confused and Alistair leaned to kiss the top of her head.

"Well maybe in not so many words. But definitely the wife and the feet rubbing and the cheese." He nodded, looking proud of himself.

"I suppose that would have been after you proposed," she mused.

"Oh no, you did that. You flung yourself at me. It was quite embarrassing."

"Alistair…" Alexa grumbled, arching an eyebrow at his ruse.

"How often do you wake next to Zevran?" he asked again, tone serious.

"Not often. Usually only when I miss you so much that I can't stand it," she answered truthfully.

"Well that's not fair," he complained. "Who do I have to hold when I miss you?"

"Well seeing as how I proposed last night, I guess we'll just have to hold each other."

Alistair broke out into a big grin. "Well. I think I can handle that."

"I think I can to. I…" she hesitated and sat up, trying to ignore the pounding in her skull. "I love you, Alistair. I never stopped. I never want to be without you again."

"Nor I you, my love. Nor I you."


	15. Chapter 15

They were married within the week, their former party members staying in Denerim to attend the event. After that, they scattered to their respective parts of Fereldan. Zevran stayed in the city, much to the King's disgruntled disappointment. Sylvia had decided to go back to her roguish roots and began wielding two daggers rather than the one sword that Alexa had inspired her to carry, begging the elf in question to . Goldana had crawled out of the woodwork after the wedding, trying to get more sovereigns from her half-brother. The Queen had handled the issue quietly and Alistair's sister was never heard from again. Rumor had it she had been relocated to Highever with her several children and was put in charge of running a local orphanage. The remaining children from the orphanage Sylvia had grown up in were sent there with her.

The King and Queen ruled for many years and, despite the odds, she was able to bear two healthy children. They lived a long and happy life, until the time that the call of the taint was so strong that the two of them made their final journey to the Deep Roads. As most everything their life, they died as they lived: together.


End file.
